B a d W o l f

seven

            I should say that I'm ashamed of myself for all the drinks I downed, but I'm not. Am I drunk right now? The probable answer was yes, but thats not what I told the officer.

             I couldn't trust my head, it was playing tricks on me. After the dinner I so dramatically ran out on I found my way to a convenient bar a couple of streets down. In Austin, Texas it was way easier to find a countertop holding liquor than it was in Oklahoma. Another drink comes my way. It's emptied immediately.

             My thoughts were to go home and call back Nate about the earlier phone call. But it seems my body took me here, which was all right with me. I didn't plan on getting totally intoxicated but I did—am? I started seeing things that weren't there. This is all just a mirage. It had to be.

           The officer was relentless, pulling me over on the side of the dirt road. The halfway house wasn't that far from here. 'Bout a quarter of a mile to be exact. The lights on the cruiser is blinding, even though my back happens to be facing the harsh brightness. I catch the reflection though from my mirrors, it makes it difficult to see so I blink rapidly.

            A tap resounds on my widow, echoing through my small car. I roll the window down. Could he smell the alcohol on me?

            The bastard in blue just sat there, looking directly into my eyes. It was torture. I know my eyes must be red from the alcohol and the crying I've done. 

           "Do you know why I pulled you over?" He asked. It was shrill and made me cringe internally.

         I don't reply, knowing damn well he knew that I didn't know why the hell he pulled me over.

           "License and registration, please," he commands.

            My head is beginning to throb due to the excessive amount of drinks I consumed. Did I regret it? No. I found drinking an old habit that I don't plan on ever ridding. I got high off the feeling of the liquor melting on my tongue down to my throat, tracing a line of pure burn. The liquid cocaine was rooted into my bloodstream and was not removing itself for any purpose.

            "Josie Odell?"

           I look at him, absentmindedly nodding. Another name.

           He checks everything out in his little computer in his car parked behind me.

             Josie Odell.

            I have to get back to the orphanage. Abby was waiting for. Abby needed me.

             No she wasn't. No, no, no, Arabella. Josie. It's Josie this time. I shake my head trying to clear my thoughts. Tears compete with each other to see who will get to the bottom of my face. I killed her... Abby is dead. And it's my fault. It's my fault... It's my fault.

            Josie Odell. Josie Odell. That's me. Just another name. I killed her. I'm rocking back and forth in my seat I can't help but think about Abby.

             The bartender gives me another drink. I shove it down my throat with ease. It's so nice to forget. To not remember everything that I've done.

             Nate's words repeat. Like I've taken a bat to a record player in anger and it keeps replaying as if it's battle cry will be heard. That's what I desire. Take a bat to all my problems; people too.

"Mind if I sit here?"

My mouth does not respond. I just ask the bartender for another drink. His voice sounds familiar though.

"Make that two," he says. My head stays forward and not really comprehending him, this guy beside me.

The only negative of drinking is the flashbacks that chase me.

So many people left me, all I feel is emptiness.

"You skipped out on dinner way early. What was that phone call about?"

Now I turned my head towards him. Of course.

I roll my eyes and turn my head forward facing as I say, "Spiros."

So this is a really short chapter but this is kind of inside of her mind a little bit. If you're confused on this chapter it's basically her having flashbacks of her previous identities and the stuff that happened.